


Training

by Kirbyplier



Category: South Park
Genre: Implied lemon, M/M, Stick of Truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:16:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirbyplier/pseuds/Kirbyplier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig would do things to get out of training. CREEK</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training

**Author's Note:**

> It's implied, so just rating it Teens and Up!

“Why the hell should I be training with you?” Craig muttered as he watched Tweek playing with his bow, not really _that_ aggravated that he was assigned to Tweek. He watched the way Tweek twitched and shook in his normal ways, tracing the outline of his body sitting, and just touching his bow and looking at the arrows next to him. Tweek was facing Craig, but his eyes were focused on his bow. Craig's eyes focused on the shirtless being, not really upset that he was stuck with Tweek like he showed.

Tweek shrugged, “M-Maybe because you betrayed t-the Humans w-with Clyde?” A small _Nng!_ was heard as Craig rolled his eyes and focused on something else other than the Barbarian.

“U-Um, anyway,” Tweek stumbled on his words, looking at Craig, “let's train n-now.” Craig flipped Tweek off, getting off the wall and waiting for Tweek to give him instructions. Tweek sniffed involuntarily, it was cold, Cartman's mom didn't have a heater, and he still had on that no-shirt outfit. Not worrying about getting Craig sick or Craig will get mad and start punching Tweek out of nowhere—too much pressure—he fiddled with his hands.

Craig raised an eyebrow, waiting for Tweek to start talking. “I-I don't...” Tweek didn't know what to say and Craig could sense it. He saw Tweek shaking more than usual and his mouth form an awkward line. “Too much pressure!” Tweek pulled at his hair and whimpered. Craig rolled his eyes, knowing the panic attack Tweek has when he doesn't know what to do.

Tweek felt arms wrapped around him. His eyes snapped shut. ‘ _They're gonna rape me_ ,’ he thought. “Calm down, spaz. We don't have to train,” Craig reassured Tweek, trying to get a way out of training. Tweek's shaking slowed down after some minutes, his cheeks grew a rosy pink in the situation. Craig knew that Tweek's shaking turned to normal, but he continued to hug him. Tweek felt his face growing warm, considering it was freezing cold so he was able to tell, but he felt even warmer in Craig's arms.

That's not gay.

Craig even wrapped his cape around him and Tweek, not wanting to hear Tweek's rambling and wouldn't want the little blonde die of hypothermia. Would he care? Yes, he has feels too.

“What if I volunteer to help you feel better?” Craig asked, he couldn't stop the smirk forming on his face when he saw Tweek blushing even harder—if that was possible. “U-Um, Uh. I-I—”

“ _Shh_ ,” Craig put one of his gloved fingers on Tweek's lips, “it doesn't involve talking.” Tweek's breath hitched in his throat.

\----

“So, it wouldn't work?” Stan asked Cartman as they walked towards the room Cart— _they_ locked Tweek and Craig together.

“No, rivals wouldn't work,” Cartman rolled his eyes, hitting his staff on the floor. “Either way, I'm surprise you're my servant,” Cartman raised his eyebrows smirking at Stan.

Stan scoffed, “I'm not your servant, you asked me to help you get Tweek and Craig.” Cartman raised his head, “ya complaining?” Stan shook his head, dismissing the conversation.

Stan and Cartman were both at the door. Cartman, being the one who quickly does things, put his hand in the door knob and was about to turn it. Stan felt uneasy, “I don't think we should open the door.”

“And?”

“....”

“We should open the door, then.” Cartman quickly pushed the door, regretting the decision. Stan and Cartman froze, just staring inside the room. Craig and Tweek stopped what they were doing, looking at them back; Craig flipped them off.

Craig's cape was around both of them, hiding the scene. Tweek's face was flushed, his back against the wall, looking quite taller than he should. “Sweet Jesus!” Tweek screeched, ruffling noises under Craig's cape. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Breathing,” Craig answered.

Cartman put his fingers on his temples, closing his eyes and sighing deeply, “get the fuck out of my room.” 


End file.
